Hip Albatross
by Niji-chi
Summary: WWIII, a time when the Russians decided to take over. Alfred F. Jones just wanted to protect his brother, he didn't want to fight. But, in the midst of ruin, he has to partner up with the enemy, and everything becomes clear to him. No one knows what they really want. And nothing can ever be the same once it has changed. Rated for violence and slight gore. Eventual RusAme & PolLiet.
1. Chapter 1

His breath echoed across the dead remnants of once beautiful buildings, his footsteps making dull thuds as they hit the ground beneath his feet. The sleek barrel of a a shotgun led his way through the quiet streets as he ran.

A low groaning noise made him jump slightly, and he turned to it, slinking towards it carefully. The slumped form of a small child came into view, a sick feeling overtaking him.

"Hilfe!" She mewled pathetically, gingerly trying to reach out and grab the blonde's leg. He stepped away, frown distorting his features. How could he just leave her here? A large bite mark could be seen on her stomach, and part of her left leg was gone. Pretty soon, she'd be just like them, like the others.

"Entschuldigung..." He murmured, tears almost prickling his eyes as he aimed the gun shakily at her head. He pulled the trigger and the loud bang caused a chill to go through his body. He hoped that there were others living around here, but as he looked deeper into the backbend alleyway, he saw the slumped figures of more people. They were dead, necks slit. Probably suicide. One woman, though, was not slit. She had her arm extended to where the now dead child lay. She had probably been trying to save her. A man held her back, his lifeless eyes focused on her form. He had a knife pressed into her neck, and his own blood covered her.

He felt sick.

He needed to make it out of there fast, before the rest of them showed up. Noise attracted them, caused them to rally and attack.

With a silent sigh, he wiped his face with the back of his sleeve and turned, breaking into a swift run. It would be best to get as far away from her as possible. He hated this, hated having to kill those who were innocent. It made his stomach turn, it made his sky blue eyes drip warm liquid down his cheeks. That girl was far, far too young to be trying to survive in this mess of a war. People either killed themselves or fought for the enemy.

The American's name was Alfred F. Jones, and he was 22. He did not _join_ the war. He was forced into it by his government, handed a gun and a uniform, thrown into battle, and expected to win. If only the damn Russians didn't fight so dirty.

Biological weapons were their specialty these days, it seemed. They had created this virus, this deadly _sickness_ that supposedly was going to help them win. _Win?_ It more seemed like they were trying to wipe out all of humanity. It ate away at the brain, caused delusions and pain, turned any sane person into a soulless monster.

No, not like zombies, not the mindless drones that wandered into oblivion. These were stronger, deadlier, angrier, smarter. They were filled with the icy hate of the opposing side. Smart enough to only fight against the enemy. Turning innocent civilians into warriors. Turning the ally into the enemy.

Alfred brushed the sweat off of his forehead, turning a sharp corner to avoid an overturned car. Berlin was in shambles, being the one of the first places to go. It was a miracle anyone survived, the bomb had still been in it's testing stages. But what did that matter? The Russians would stop at nothing to win. Innocent lives did not matter. Their leader, deemed 'Ivan the Cruel', was trying to -and succeeding- take over the entire world, it seemed. The Baltics and the Nordics were nothing to even break a sweat over for their tyrannical leader, not to mention the countries previously a part of the Soviet Union. He was slowly eating away at civilization, slowly spreading his rule over the expanse of Europe and Asia, soon the Americas and Africa. All for 'power'. All for 'everyone's benefit'. Communism failed in it's first attempt, but it was back. And stronger.

Another corner and Alfred was no longer alone. Instead of the awkward run that most of the enemy soldiers had, this person was running normally. Running towards Alfred, their head turned to face the enemy that was gaining on them from behind.

It was a soldier that was after them, after a living, breathing human.

Alfred swung into action, knowing that the zombie-like fighters would only attack those on the opposing side. The uniform of this person was recognized but the American couldn't' place it at the person was being chased, though, so he knew that they were fighting for his cause. Why else would they be running? The 'soldiers' -as they were called- only fought for the Russians.

He broke into a run as well, stopping abruptly and aiming once he was close enough to his target. His hands were steady, his blue eyes trained on the creature. With a near silent click and then a loud bang, the gun went off and the creature fell to the ground. It's prey -so to speak- was a bit scared, pulling a knife out of their large coat pocket to defend themselves against their new opponent. Alfred ignored them for now, running up to the undead soldier and landing another shot right into it's skull, stopping it's movements completely.

"Wie ge'ht es Ihnen?" Alfred asked in unsure German, turning towards the person from before. It was a very tall man with silvery white hair. Now that he was more focused, the blonde could see that the stranger wore the usual clothing of high-ranked Russian soldiers, the hat of a general bringing his fear to reality. The American froze, bringing his gun up in caution and stepping towards the other slowly. Why was this man being pursued by one of his own? And what was a high-ranking officer like him doing out on the field?

"St-stop!" The other called in English, falling to his knees. He dropped his knife, holding his side in pain. "I am… On your side!" He managed to say before doubling over and blacking out.

Alfred, at this point, was unsure of what to do. Did he help the other? Did he leave them there? What had he meant that he was on his side?

He edged foreword, gun still aimed at the other. Was he bitten? After a moment of standing above the other's limp body, Alfred's morals kicked in. He couldn't just leave this man here, not after he had fired his gun. So, he slung his gun onto his back by the strap, leaning down and securely getting a grip on the taller man. The American was strong, for sure, so it wasn't too difficult. He began the slow trudge to safety, ignoring protest from his arms.

7 Hours Later

Alfred had dressed the other's wounds as best as he could, letting out a sigh of relief after seeing that he had not been bitten. It took awhile to undress the other to see the wound, for they had on layer upon layer of clothes. He had searched the other for weapons, only finding a section of lead piping (?), a few bottles of vodka, a cell phone, a notebook, and first aid kit. Neat, fancy-looking Russian filled a fourth of the book and the cell phone had no service, leaving the only usable items the unopened first aid kit and the vodka.

Alfred had decided not to ditch the knife the other had dropped earlier, but the lead pipe was useless. Why did this strange man have it anyways? He had only kept it because it seemed an odd thing to have and NOT have a purpose for. It could have a greater purpose than causing confusion in those who stumbled across it. Maybe the man was crazy.

The supposed Russian had no identification -at least, nothing in English. Alfred cursed himself slightly for not learning it before, flipping through the notebook's pages once again. He found nothing, like the twenty times he had done it before, and let out a low growl. What would happen when the other woke up? Would he have to fight him? Was it a trap? The other was severely injured, a large gash running the length of his right side. He had suffered a large amount of blood loss, and a few ribs were cracked, but that was it. He wasn't weak enough not to fight, but he was defenseless without his weapons. Alfred had hidden them behind his own, far enough from the large body in front of him, but close enough to reach if need be.

In all honestly, Alfred hoped that the other was not an enemy. He had been separated from the rest of his team over two months ago, living off of the stuff he took from stores as he passed the crumbling buildings. Alfred wasn't even supposed to be in the war, actually. He had gone in place of his younger twin brother, Matthew, who's name had been drawn in the draft. The government didn't have enough money for DNA testing, so Alfred easily passed as his twin, taking his place. Matthew was much too weak to fight anyways, he was too kind, too nice to hurt anyone. He would have been killed so early on, he had no chance of survival.

Alfred, on the other hand, was taller, stronger, faster, more suited to fight. He went to protect his family, although he knew that Matthew would have to fight in HIS place sooner or later, depending on how the war went. But Alfred didn't know. He had been cut off from any other 'living' person for two months. And he was running thin. He was running out of ammo fast, his medical supplies dwindled, and he was lonely. Yes, above all else, lonely.

The figure in front of him stirred, and he stiffened as the taller man sat up. The stranger had violet eyes, deep and intoxicating. Those eyes moved over Alfred in confusion before a relaxed sigh took over the other.

"Thank you for saving me," They said in a light voice, Russian accent apparent although no anger or fear showed. The stranger looked at their state, examining the bandages and smiling cutely.

"Who are you?" Alfred asked suddenly, scared. How was this person being so calm?

"That is bit rude, is it not?" They asked before smiling and meeting Alfred's blue eyes. "My name is General Ivan Braginski." Alfred froze. He was an enemy! His eyes darted towards the shotgun he had so carefully placed, but he decided not to kill the other. He could use him as a hostage, maybe. Or at the very least get some sort of information, right?

"General Braginski…" Alfred murmured, studying the strange man's pleasantly calm expression.

"Do I have honor of knowing your name, or am I to call you 'Master'?" Braginski teased, receiving a strange look from Alfred.

"Alfred F. Jones," He shot back, nerves on end.

"Alfred? What nice name." Braginski mused, smile flickering to show teeth.

"No, you can call me Mr. Jones." Alfred bit back a snide remark, deciding not to get the other riled up. He was exhausted from carrying the other to this abandoned bar, sealing it up, scoping the area out, and setting up a camp. And then he had to find food, clean the other up, and the like. He hadn't slept in days beforehand, anyways.

"I am so sorry, Mr. Jones!" Braginski pleaded sarcastically.

"Look, I don't want to talk to you any more than you want to talk to me. So can you just answer my questions and then shut up? You need the rest, too." Alfred growled, seeing the shocked expression of the other as a sign that he had won.

"Why are you on the field?" He asked first, noting the other's smile as a bad sign.

"I am deserter." The simplicity of this answer, along with the smile he gave it with, made a chill spill through the blonde American.

"That's not the right answer." He was suddenly even more scared. This man seemed not to have any fear in telling him that. It could be a trap!

"I was originally stationed in Paris, but I caught supply train to Munich. From there, I made my way here, hoping to eventually find way back toward Russia."

"I guess that answers my next question. What were you doing in Paris?" He had been out of the know for awhile. What had progressed in the war? What had been conquered, what is surviving? What had the Russians done that was so terrible that they had soldiers deserting?

"We were fighting the French. They were actually trying for once! But they were not putting up much of fight when I left."

Alfred stiffened. So they were on France now? And with living people, and not soldiers? Why would they need higher ranking officers? "Why did you desert? Especially after you were so high up on the ranks?"

The Russian had to think for a brief moment before answering.

"I was wrong."

"Explain." He wouldn't be falling for a trap! And what if the Russians had become even more ruthless?

"I had thought that I was doing the right thing. I liked war, the rush of fight. And, before I had known it, I was moving up ranks. Once I was general, I began to realize destruction I solely was causing. Before, the chaos had attracted me, it had intrigued me. Now, I want to run from it, hide, never show myself again. So I fled." Alfred was a bit worried -he had said he liked chaos- but the sincerity of Ivan's words had really hit something in him. He did not pity, he related to the Russian's pain, if only slightly.

"Why would you need high ranking humans, instead of soldiers, to fight?"

"We were setting up base there. For easier access to United Kingdom and Americas. As well as Spain and Portugal. But they are unimportant." He still had a grin on his face.

"Don't start thinking that I'm going to trust you, okay?" Alfred said blandly, picking himself up off of the floor. He faced away from the Russian, digging through his bag to find a change of clothes. When he turned around, Braginski was standing directly behind him.

With a sickly sweet grin and a chuckle, the other replied, "I would not dream of it, Mr. Jones."

Alfred's skin crawled and he momentarily gawked. The intimidating general seemed unfazed by his wounds and just stood there expectantly.

"You are going to shower now, da? May I join?" He asked, grinning brightly.

"Hells no!" Alfred returned, scared. Oh God, why had he saved this guy? He was insane! Maybe be had radiation poisoning?

"Then after. I shall keep watch." Braginski turned towards the boarded up doors and lumbered back over to where he had been sitting before, picking up his pipe as he did. He delicately retook his place and turned his head back to Alfred. "Do not worry, I will not try and escape. I am not stupid. I will keep good watch!" He smiled and looked back to the door.

Alfred, for a moment, did not know if he should trust this guy. Why was he so cheery, so calm? Damn, those Russians are weird. But, the American decided that he should at least be clean, so he made his way to the bathroom.

After washing and changing, Alfred quietly re-entered the main room, seeing that Ivan's form had not moved from his spot. He sat down next to the Russian -not too close, though- and tried to read his face. His violet eyes were trained on the door, unwavering asides from the occasional blink.

"Thanks…" The blonde said quietly, flicking his gaze to the floor. He was only thanking him because he had kept a good watch! It wasn't as if he had been gone long, though. But he could have tried to escape, or maybe he could have tried to kill him while distracted with cleaning himself.

While away from the creepy Russian, he had thought more about his answers, more to ask. Was he maybe… slow? He almost seemed it. But his answers were prim and short, not in any way showing that he had to think up a story or anything. They seemed truthful. And, why would he lie? To get Alfred's trust.

But Alfred thought himself a good judge of character. He was the type of person to try and see the good in everyone, no matter how bad they were. So he believed the Russian's story.

"Of course. I am prisoner, am I not? I should do what I am told." Braginski's voice was less childish than before, less cheery. "May I go and clean up now?"

Alfred nodded. "Don't take too long, you need rest. We should try and be outta' this place by tomorrow morning, supplies aren't very good here." He crossed his arms, looking away, tying to keep up his no-nonsense behavior. He really was just happy to have someone to talk to! A living, breathing person to communicate with.

The Russian hummed in agreement and stood, silently walking through the doors Alfred had entered. It was quiet for a few minutes, and then the soldier returned. His hair was even whiter, skin a creamy pale, and he looked much less rumpled than before. But he also looked different. No longer stained with soot and blood he looked… Almost handsome.

"You know, Mr. Jones, it is very impolite to stare~" Braginski teased, smirking as he sat down again. His face very briefly -Alfred barely caught the waver- flashed an expression of pain.

"Hey! I was not staring!" He shot back, flustered. "And you're not the one to talk, you were staring at me before!"

Ivan hummed and nodded, smiling. "That is because you are handsome! I am not, so it is strange. And rude." Alfred was stunned, completely shocked. And scared even more. This Russian... He was too lovey-dovey, too kind for the American's liking.

"Wh-whatever… I'm going to sleep…" He replied, too exhausted to think further. He took his gun into his arms instinctively and closed his eyes, not removing his glasses. He needed to be on the lookout, needed to be able to spring directly into action if necessary. Now he didn't just have the soldiers to worry about, but he had Ivan

* * *

So, hello everyone! This is the first semi-serious fic that I am posting. It's... It's a lot to handle at first. Don't be daunted by my weird explanation of the war. If you have any questions, PLEASE ask. I want this story to be easy to understand in some aspects. (But I want to leave a few things spotty!) The updates will be a bit faster (hopefully) than my usual because I have a LOT of this typed up. But I'm re-editing all of it to make it more serious and so that it makes more sense. Because it sort of turned to a comedy, which I do NOT want!

Alfred is in Berlin (even though it's destroyed) because he and his team were sent to get rid of the lingering soldiers. As said in the story, Berlin was one of the first places to be hit. The bomb was in developmental stages, so the soldiers there were more deadly or more messed up. (If anyone was confused or curious!)

The title is based off of a Gorillaz song called 'Hip Albatross'. It has the famous zombie-movie quote in the beginning; 'Every dead body that is not exterminated becomes one of them. It gets up and kills, the people it kills get up and KILL!' That inspired this entire story. :D

Translations:

Hilfe - Help (German)

Entschuldigung - Sorry (German)

Wie ge'ht es Ihnen? - How are you? (German) In the context of 'Are you okay?'


	2. Chapter 2

Four O'Clock PM

There had been nothing of particular worry the next morning as they awoke. Alfred was up first, and Braginski soon followed. They prepared their things, checked the perimeter, and left.

Alfred had been staying in Berlin for awhile, but they had decided that it would be better to try and make their way towards Poland, where there were more people. Following railroad tracks was the easiest way to get anywhere, since Europe was more train-centered than anything. Roads would be too conspicuous, they had too much of a chance of being caught, and not many trains ran anymore. Especially not in Germany. They set out to Szczecin, following a major rail line, knowing that it was going to take a day or two. It was about 100 miles, but that was nothing to what the two had endured beforehand. Nothing even close.

"Have you ever been to Poland?" Braginski asked at one point, breaking the silence. Alfred shook his head.

"Nah, I've only stayed around here. I was deployed here in Berlin about half a year ago. We were sent to do a sweep, but that was back when there were more soldiers around… I was separated, I haven't seen anyone else since…" It was quiet. "And you?"

"A few times, yes. It is a rather nice place -well, some parts… After we hit Warsaw and Poland declared it's surrender… There was no need for me to return. I had been a few times as a child…" Again, silence took over, the only noises being the dull thuds of army boots hitting dry, ashy ground.

"What's happened in the last half-year? What have I missed?" The American asked suddenly, worry layering his voice.

Ivan's face contorted into a frown. "A lot. A lot has happened… What was the last thing you knew?"

"America and Canada were still holding strong, and China had surrendered. Ivan the Cruel took reign in Beijing… Uhm…" He shrugged. "I guess not a lot. I really don't remember all that much."

With a sigh, the Russian began. "Well, our current target is France. Paris is being taken over by ground forces, last I knew, and we have troops deployed all over… Spain joined us willingly, and have been attacking America. Sadly… America had to surrender and join us or be hit in it's capitol." Alfred stopped.

What?

What!

America was… was losing?

"Look, Mr. Jones…" The taller began, frowning. He honestly looked sympathetic, reechoing a hand out to try and calm the smaller man down.

"No! I'm… I'm losing?" He asked, voice a little higher.

"Nyet! Stop!" Ivan said, placing his hands on Alfred's shoulders. He sighed heavily, violet eyes searching the American's bright blue ones. "You need to stop this. Now. We have more important things to worry about than our countries of birth."

"I know! But - but… But Mattie! Is he okay? Goddammit! He'd better be alive! Shit!" Alfred turned and punched a nearby tree, a dull slam echoing throughout the silent abyss of the once great nation. Tears streaked down his cheeks. What if Mattie was dead? What if he wasn't okay? What if he.. If he had been turned into one of the soldiers? Goddammit! He risked his life to protect him, and now he may not be okay?

He slammed his fist against the tree again before slumping against it, sobbing quietly. A loud moan broke out behind him, followed by the sickening sound of metal hitting skull and the slump of a body. Ivan walked up behind the smaller, placing a hand gently on the blonde's back.

"It if is of any condolences, they gave up without suffering the soldiers… We hit Chicago and Houston, then San Diego and Las Angeles. After that… They accepted our deal and joined us. It was not.. Not too painful… Nothing like this…" He motioned around them, to the barren wasteland that once was beautiful green hills and pastures. Alfred sniffed once before nodding, standing up fully and wiping his tears away. The two began to walk again, and silence reclaimed them once more.

"I'm sorry…" Alfred murmured after a few minutes, eyes trained to the ground ahead of him. Why was he apologizing to this man? He was the enemy, part of the reason that his beloved home country was under control of Ivan the Cruel. It was stupid, everything was stupid. This war, Ivan; even he himself was stupid. He shook his head, mentally wiping away all of those thoughts in favor of focusing on the journey ahead.

"For what? For being upset? Do not be sorry, comrade," Braginski replied softly, gaze flickering over Alfred in a confused state.

The blonde sighed, shaking his head. "Nothing.. nothing, let's go…" And they continued briskly on their way.

Nine PM

"So you have a twin brother you are fighting in place of?" Ivan asked, hands expertly pulling a needle through his coat.

Alfred offered a nod. "Yeah… He and I are really close. But it's hard, you know? I have to stand up for him, be the hero all the time… I feel bad for saying this but… But I sometimes wish that he could defend himself. He relies too much on what I do. I sometimes want to be my own person." He frowned and continued to polish his gun. The two sat in a brief moment of silence before Ivan answered, still working on the tear in his coat.

"I understand quite well, Mr. Jones. I have younger sister and elder sister. Neither of them are very strong; I have always had to fight for them, get them out of trouble, you know. My elder sister raised my younger sister and I, by herself, so times were always rough for us. But I grew taller, stronger, and was able to defend them. Things were never very good, though. My younger sister… She has a frightening infatuation with me. I had too many things to deal with, too many… So I joined the war." He sighed and shook his head, biting the end of the thread and holding up his coat to inspect the further damage.

"You did a good job sewing that up." The American studied the army coat for a minute. "How did you get that wound anyways? If it was a soldier, you'd have been bitten…"

Ivan's face flushed. "N-not a soldier…" He mumbled, looking down. He was obviously very embarrassed by whatever had caused it.

"Oh? Then what?" Alfred teased, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips.

Braginski sighed, biting his lip nervously before offering a weak smile. "You have to realize, I had been running for quite some time. As soon as other officers had noticed my absence, soldiers were sent from all around to hunt me down and either bring me back or kill me. I hadn't been able to stop, in fear of getting caught. So, when I finally had the chance… I wanted to stop somewhere with, er, alcohol." His face reddened a bit more, and he continued. "So, when I saw pub… I… I knew it would be good beer, good German beer… So, I broke window, and tried to climb through, but… But soldier was nearby and I was in hurry and… And I cut myself, on accident…" His face was completely directed at the ground, cheeks burning brightly.

"W-w-wait… You're saying that you… That you lost that much blood, almost got killed, for beer?" Alfred asked, laughing.

"Nyet! Not beer… Uhm…" He bit his lip, covering his face with his hands. "F-for vodka!"

At that, Alfred broke into even more hysterical laughter, rocking back and forth silently. The flames in front of them flickered as he gasped for air. "Man, you Russians and your vodka… You know, that reminds me of something that happened a while ago." The American said, after a few moments of laughing. He smiled. "I was starving.. I mean, I hadn't eaten any decent food in ages. I was still around here, you know, so all I was finding to eat was wurst and potatoes." Ivan cracked a smile. "So, as I was walking, I almost DIED when I had seen the most beautiful sight ever." He dramatically paused. "A fricken' McDonald's!" He smiled and Ivan laughed. "I mean, I HAD to have some, you know? So, I went in and had myself a little look around. To my luck, there was no one there! I cooked myself up a few hamburgers -I had worked at a few before so I knew how- and sat down to eat. But all of the sudden, a HOARD of soldiers passed by… And they saw me! So I grabbed my food and ran! But I stumbled and dropped everything… And I had to leave it… Sadly, I haven't seen another…" He pouted for a moment but broke into a smile, joining the Russian in laughter.

"All that for that greasy food?" Ivan shook his head. "Vodka is much more worth getting killed for."

"No way, dude! Vodka tastes and smells like rubbing alcohol and makes it so you can't think right! At least with McDonalds' food, you get to eat and you get happy from all the good-stuff, er, stuff inside!" They continued laughing and relaxed in the firelight. "I'll keep first watch." Alfred declared, turning to sit at a better angle. The darkness of the night was all too familiar to him, but it was odd not being holed up in some building.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Jones. Wake me up soon so that you may get sleep, I have lot of stamina." The Russian leaned back and rested his head against his coat as a makeshift pillow, quickly falling asleep to the sound of cicadas and Alfred's steady breathing.

"Night, Braginski."

"Spokoynoy Nochi, Mr. Jones."

**Author's Note:**

**Hey everyone! I hope you like the story so far! I know that the friendship between Ivan and Alfred seems to be going a little fast, but the two of them have no one else, you know? The next chapter offers a little more plot, though it is a lot shorter. And I do realize that this chapter is also short! It just all depends on how I had the line breaks set up in the original.**

**Translations:**

**Spokoynoy Nochi: Good Night (Russian)**


	3. Chapter 3

Three days later

They had made it fine to Szczecin, only dealing with a few stray soldiers here and there. Poland, sadly, had a much similar fate as that of Germany. Most of the survivors had moved to the motherland, Russia, or one of the other controlled countries like Lithuania. The two did not pass any living creatures at all, asides from the occasional dog or cat. Alfred had insisted on feeding them something; they all looked far too thin for animals, but Ivan had firmly said no. They couldn't waste supplies, could they?

"But we can find more! Little Muffin can't, y'know? He's too weak…" Alfred pleaded, pouting and making an expression not unlike the one the dog he was holding wore. Ivan sighed heavily.

"Fine. But it cannot come with us. If we have another mouth to feed, neither one of us will be strong enough to continue on." He rolled his eyes as Alfred cheered and picked the scrawny dog up, dancing around happily.

That had not lasted long.

The dog, sadly, decided to run away after it was fed, to Alfred's dismay. Ivan just sighed, resisting the urge to laugh at the other's obvious sadness. That was strange, for him, not wanting to see someone in pain, but he assumed it was because some company (however idiotic) was better than no company. And he needed help.

After Szczecin, they had tried their best to map out at least some sort of route. They really had no idea where to go next. Well, almost no idea.

"I think we should go to Russia."

Ivan looked over at Alfred, a bit shocked. "What do you mean, Mr. Jones? We would have more of a chance of getting caught…"

"Well, yeah! But you said that you wanted to go back there, right? It's a million times closer than MY goal, to get back to the good ol' U.S. of A., so we'd might as well just go there. I can get by perfectly fine on my own." He shrugged. His logic was, oddly enough, completely accurate. It made perfect sense that this was where they needed to go.

"But are you not worried about getting caught?"

"Not really. I mean, you know how to work your way around, and I can back you up, so what more do we need?"

"Then how will you make it out of there without my help?"

Alfred was silent. "I don't know, okay? Look, let's just focus and go. We don't need to dilly-dally on the unimportant minor details. I can figure that out once I get there." He crossed his arms. "And when did I say you could talk back to me, Braginski?"

Ivan rolled his eyes. "I assumed incorrectly, please forgive me." Sarcasm was thickly layered over his words, sickly sweet and dangerous.

The American just scoffed, picking up his pace to walk a little ahead of the other in the dusty streets. What was so wrong with being a little nicer?

"H-help! Someone, please! Anyone!" A scream of agony cut the rest of their words short, making both the Russian and the American quickly turn and begin to run towards this mystery source. They could be alive, they could be turning, but either way they were making too much noise. They were a threat to safety.

A few corners turned and a head of matted brown hair came into view. The person was slumped over, clutching their stomach and rocking back and forth.

"Are you okay?" Alfred asked in a commanding voice. The person turned around quickly, smiling weakly at their two saviors.

"Oh God, thank God! Th-thank God!" He said, voice quiet. "I… I'm not bitten, I just… I-I was stabbed by-by someone else living… P-please, can you help me?"

Ivan sprang into action, his wounds not making him seem disabled. He picked up the limp man, signaling for Alfred to follow him. The blonde whacked the barrel of his gun against the skull of a soldier that had wandered by, causing a sickening thud to sound out. A few more showed up, moaning and gurgling, and Alfred easily took them out with a few shots.

They ran through the city, eyes trained ahead, before coming across a seemingly fit building to rest in. The man was set down, the doors and windows barricaded, and then the action finally stopped.

"Where are you hurt?" Ivan asked, voice deep and threatening. The brunette shakily pulled his arms away from his stomach, exposing a stab wound. The Russian began to strip the man's clothes, Alfred handing him their First Aid kit and dampening a cloth.

After what seemed like an eternity of cleaning, the wound was deemed okay and the man was put to sleep.

"So…" Alfred said, sighing as he picked up some supplies and packed them away neatly. "How is he going to be?"

"Fine. At least, he should be. Not bitten anywhere, so we have nothing to worry about…" Ivan sighed as well.

"Y'know, you're really good at that."

"At what?" The Russian looked over at Alfred quizzically.

"Dressing wounds and stuff. Taking control."

"I am used to it, because of my position in the army. I have had to do it quite often."

Alfred grimaced. "I'm sorry… That must have really sucked then, huh?"

"No, not really." It was momentarily silent before anything else was said. "Actually, yes. It was quite terrible… I have had to see so many good men slip away, some of them by my own hands, just to relieve their suffering. It makes my stomach turn to think about it."

Alfred sighed. "I understand. Too many times did I have to kill off some innocent little kid because of this goddamn war."

Again, silence took over.

"How are your wounds doing, by the way?"

Ivan lifted up his shirt and showed Alfred the neat white bandages. "Very well. You did a very good job of cleaning them for me, Mr. Jones." He smiled.

"You're welcome." Alfred scanned the room for a final time before nodding towards his bed. "Night, Braginski. We'd better get some shut-eye. Sleep well, we've gotta' lot to do tomorrow."

"You are right. Spokoynoy nochi, Mr. Jones."

They both got comfortable in their beds, the only sounds filling the rooms the toss and turn of blankets against the floor. Silence soon rang out, and just when they were on the brink of sleep, the American whispered, "And, by the way, you can call me Alfred."

**Author's Note:**

**Just as I said, much shorter chapter. Yes, that is Toris. He actually is extremely important later on! Okay? Don't just think that I just added him for no reason. Or because I was running out of ideas. Don't think that! It's not truuuue!**

**The next chapter is a lot longer than this and contains a bunch of plotty things, but it also REALLY needs to be re-written, so it'll be a little longer than I'd like before I can post it. And, sadly, I only have a paragraph or two written of this after that. But I know exactly where I'm going with this story!**

**Translations:**

**Spokoynoy Nochi: Good Night (Russian)**


	4. Chapter 4

The Next morning

Alfred awoke to seeing two sleeping forms instead of one, and was almost a bit… Giddy about it. He was a real hero, he had saved not just one person, but two! Two people owed their lives to him. Well, maybe not their newest member, but he had helped. And Ivan would be a goner without the American's kind actions. He had not only helped the Russian, but he had saved his life even though he was an enemy. Only a true hero could do that.

"Dobroye utra, Alfred." Ivan said, smiling and sitting up. He shifted himself around and stood, stretching and slipping his coat back on.

"Mornin', sunshine!" The American cheerily replied. They both instantly looked over at the new man, for he had awoken.

"Thank you…" The man said, voice a bit shaky still. He rubbed his eyes and yawned.

"No problem, dude! My name's Alfred F. Jones, pleased to make your acquaintance." He mock bowed and grinned, glad to see that this man wasn't too bad off.

"N-nice to meet you. My name is Toris Laurinathius… I don't know if you mind me asking, but… What side are you on?"

"We're against those damn Commies! Well, I am. Not sure about my buddy here."

Ivan rolled his eyes. "Da, I am against. My name is General Ivan Braginski." Toris' eyes widened.

"B-but aren't you… On the side of the R-russians?" His voice was weak, scared.

"Nyet, I was. I am a deserter…" How cooly Ivan was able to say all of this made him seem so brave, so awe-worthy.

"Look, enough chit-chat! We'll have more time for that later, okay? We should be getting out of here, heading towards Gdańk. It'll be awhile before we get there, a few days, but we can go to Kaliningrad or cut through Belarus to get to Russia."

Ivan stopped the babbling blonde. "We have not asked our Comrade Toris where he is going…" His cold violet eyes turned to the shaking man next to him, who seemed absolutely terrified at the idea of talking.

"I-I am trying to find someone, h-here in Poland… My… my, er, partner…" He bit his lip, nervous beyond measure. How could he tell these frightening and judgmental strangers that he was gay? By the appearance of the General, he'd probably be killing. Those intimidating violet eyes...

"Oh? Got a girlfriend? How sweet! Where was the last place you saw her?" Alfred cheerily added, completely not noticing the awkward and thickly angered air in the room. Smiling dreamily into space, he thought about his crush back at home, a very sweet girl named Belle. But he had never gotten the courage to ask her out… Maybe she'd be waiting for him when he got back, since he'd be a hero! A real, true hero who had saved lives and prevented the destruction of all humanity!

"Actually, I was going to heard towards Warsaw… But that's out of the way for you two, I can go on my own-" He nervously avoided what Alfred had added.

"NO WAY, DUDE! We can help you! We're not about to let you get killed after we saved your life, right Braginski? We can go to Warsaw!" He turned to the Russian, eyes wide and pleading. He pouted, and Ivan had to agree. How could he say no when he knew that Alfred would just beg unti lhe finally submitted. He would rather skip the annoying bits and just deal with the shift in course.

"I cannot see how that could be any bad. Warsaw is about as nice as Munich is right now, so I could see how your partner could very well be fine." He smiled and Alfred cheered. Toris visibly let out a breath, offering a weak smile.

"Thank you so much, I am so very grateful…"

* * *

5:00 PM, two days later

They had decided to go to Poznam before Warsaw, since it was on the direct rail line and would be a good place to stop. Apparently, that city was a safe haven of sorts for people to gather, though anyone there would either be supporting of the Russians or under their control. Before entering the city, Alfred and Toris had to hide Ivan's clothes and disguise him; he'd be too recognizable with his silver hair and violet eyes. So, they lathered his hair with ink and ash and stored most of his clothes. He normally just wore his well-fitting uniform, but that had to be lost for suspicion.

As they entered, they began to see people. Living, breathing, thinking people. It was such a beautiful sight, mostly just for Alfred. Before Ivan he hadn't seen anyone living. No conversation, no nothing. But that had changed. And now, being immersed back into the population -somewhat- it was strange for him. He didn't really know what to do with himself yet, so he just followed Ivan.

"I'm going to ask around to see if anyone has seen Feliks. Maybe he came looking for me and stopped here for a bit," Toris said as the three scoped the place out for an inn of some sort.

"Da, you should. Alfred and I will find a place to stay; a place for four, just in case your friend is found." Alfred nodded and followed the Russian, giving a little wave to Toris before the brunette disappeared from sight. His wounds weren't all that bad, especially not compared to Ivan's, but they still irked him quite a bit. He wasn't very large or muscular, nor very strong, and Ivan and Alfred had sometimes had to carry the smaller man during their journey. But that wasn't much of a hassle, since the man was dreadfully skinny and frail.

To Alfred's delight, an inn came into view, flashing the dull yellow of a 'vacancy' sign. Well, he assumed it meant 'vacancy', he couldn't read Polish to save his life. Ivan knew it, though, and told Alfred that he was correct in his assumption. The two filed into the building, each wearing a small smile of hope.

Ivan began to quickly communicate with the exhausted man at the desk, and soon they perked up. Alfred watched as the man nodded and handed over a key, and Ivan turned back to the American with a smile.

"We have a room, Alfred! Is that not wonderful?" He sounded a bit stressed, a bit nervous, but he really was happy.

Alfred nodded happily. "Awesome! But, er, how many beds are in it?"

"Two. They are both doubles, though. I assumed that Toris and his partner would prefer a bed together, and… Well, I had hoped that you would not mind sharing with me. It would be too much money to try and pay for another room or bed." He seemed even more nervous with that, eyes shiftily flicking to the faces around the room, as if someone could hear them.

"That's fine, dude! Where did you get money, anyways?" The blonde asked. Ivan shrugged.

"I have a few Swiss bank accounts, so I just used some money from them. I had been smart in making them, using a false identity, and they have not been touched since I originally made them." He smirked. "My name now is Nikolay Ivanov, Comrade Alfredka."

Alfred laughed. "Alfredka? What, is that the Russian equivalent of 'Alfred' or something? Sounds Spanish or German or something, Iva- Comrade Nikolay." He laughed and the two made their way back outside, stopping at an ATM to withdrawal some of Ivan's money. The American couldn't see, but he knew there were more than ten zeros… What was the exchange rate from dollars to rubles these days? Last time he had checked, it was about equal… Especially since the entire world was now running off of the Russian monetary system.

"Let us go and buy some food, da? I am starving! It would be nice to eat something actually cooked, for once… Like borsch, or shchi, or maybe some pirozhki…" But Ivan was not heard, because Alfred had seen something amazing.

McDonald's.

He grabbed Ivan's arm and ran as fast as he could towards those gorgeous golden arches, eyes wide with awe and excitement. A few people gave strange looks to the two.

"DUDE! NO FRICKEN' WAY! IN POLAND! HOLY CRAP-" The Russian clamped a hand over Alfred's mouth, silencing the screaming American.

"Da, I see. I will get you something to eat from here! Just shut up, you will get us noticed!" He hissed, his accent thicker with worry as he scanned the small crowd milling about the brightly lit building. Apparently, McDonald's still flourished, even in these bad times.

"What're you goin' ta get? I'mma get me some Big Macs, and a diet coke, ta stay healthy, y'know!" Alfred was hopping around, rocking on his heels as they waited in the short line.

"Actually, I was going to go somewhere else to get my food. I do not like fast food…" He handed Alfred a few notes. "I will be back in a moment. You can handle yourself, da?"

Alfred nodded enthusiastically and Ivan left. It confused him, a bit, why Ivan wouldn't want the awesomeness that is McDonald's, but he brushed it off.

It was his turn, and he was THRILLED. But he realized something. He didn't speak Polish or Russian. Technically, everyone was supposed to learn Russian, as it was the new international language, but he had yet to learn. Last time he had an opportunity to sit and do something like that, the war wasn't even happening, and even after that -during the war- he wouldn't have wanted to.

The man behind the counter began to question Alfred as to what he wanted, he presumed, so he just pointed at the sign above.

"Big Mac?" Alfred nodded and held up three fingers. The man seemed confused but typed it up on his register anyways, and soon he was asked to pay.

After all of that confusing stuff, the American was met with the utter simplicity and beauty that is the best food on the Earth. He took a bite and melted, eyes rolling back into his head and a soft moan of pleasure escaping his lips. Good God Almighty!

He finished his first meal and continued onto the second, slurping some of his soda every now and then, when he was interrupted by two strangers.

Make that one stranger. Toris, and apparently his friend.

"Like, you've been traveling with this dope?" The mystery person said to Toris, flicking a lock of blind hair behind their shoulder.

"Y-yes… This is Alfred…" He turned to the American and smiled weakly. "H-have you gotten a room yet? And, uh, where's Ivan?"

Alfred swallowed his food and beamed. "Hiya, Toris! Yep, Ivan and I got a room for us all, and he left a few minutes ago to go and get something to eat somewhere else, he says he doesn't like fast food which is crazy 'cuz, I mean, it's the best thing on the planet an' all that crap an' stuff-"

"Do stop killing those two, Alfredka, they are probably hungry," Said Russian interrupted, sliding into the booth next to the American.

"HEY IVA- NIKOLAY!" Alfred cheered, smiling even brighter. Toris and Feliks sat across from them, and Alfred sighed with happiness. Good food and people that were pretty okay… It was awesome!

"It's, like, nice to meet you guys. I'm Feliks-" Toris cut the blonde off.

"Y-yes, Feliks I've told them all about y-you!" He whispered something in a different language -one unfamiliar to Alfred- but Ivan chuckled.

"It is okay, Toris, that you are gay."

It was silent at the table, save for the sounds of Alfred's chewing. But that, too, stopped as he realized that the pink-clad Valley girl before him was, in fact, a guy.

Toris' face turned bright red. "Y-you speak Lithuanian?" He choked out, green eyes locked on the smirking Russian.

"Da. Actually, I am fluent in quite a few languages…" He trailed off, eyes wandering around the room, looking into some memory far away. He cleared his throat. "Well, anyways, here is food for us three." He set a few small to-go boxes on the table, one in front of each of the other Europeans.

After that, nothing of real interest happened. Well, that is, until they went outside.

**Author's Note:**

**I know that this story is supposed to be on the darker side, and this chapter totally is the opposite of that, but it needed to be done this way. The next chapter is far more grim.**

**Also, about the next chapter… I actually have to write this one.. DX It won't take too long, but I have a feeling that it'll be longer than I'd like.**

**I actually don't know the exchange rate from rubles to dollars. I also don't know what Polish currency is. Sue me. **

**I hope you all enjoy this story, though! Even though there were no reviews for the newest update. So I decided to update again! Just in case some people have been reading and not reviewing. :) And don't worry! I won't stop writing this, even if no one reads it. XD I just love the story line so much. A lot more happens in the future, don't worry! **

**Love you all! **


	5. Chapter 5

A bloodcurdling scream echoed across the streets, snapping the four into attention. Ivan immediately pulled his pipe out of his belt, Alfred his shotgun. Feliks had a knife, and he was wielding it rather expertly. Toris, however, was unable to fight because of his wounds, and opted to stay back behind the other three.

"What's going on?" Alfred asked Ivan, who was quickly speaking with someone running the opposite direction.

"A horde, over a thousand soldiers! They are coming to invade the city on someone else's command! Apparently, Ivan the Cruel has vanished; they suspect assassination!" Ivan looked worried, at the very least extremely nervous. It was odd, since the American had only see him stay calm and collected. Well, until they had arrived in the city.

Now that he thought about it, the Russian had changed quite drastically since they had entered the city. He was constantly nervous, cold violet eyes always speculating the area. And he had insisted on some sort of disguise… But how would anyone recognize a general? Sure, getting rid of the clothes makes sense, but going to the extreme of dying your hair is a bit odd.

"Alfred?" Said Russian asked, alarmed that the blonde had stopped running towards the horde. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, yeah…" He replied, running again towards the soldiers. Ivan shrugged it off as the American being nervous, but he knew that Alfred was acting weird. At least, weird for how he normally acted.

The American ran full speed towards the slightly limping soldiers, knocking one harshly in the skull with the barrel of the gun. He took a few more out and ran to help Feliks, who was stuck in a mildly awkward and potentially life-threatening situation with a particularly chubby creature. The two of them, after they killed off the larger one, began to help Ivan control the masses that were running and shrieking. Only a few stayed to try and help fight, but most were too scared or too ill-armed to help any. Feliks was constantly running back to check on Toris, and it was sweet how the two seemed to stay together through all of this.

Well, neither Alfred nor Ivan noticed or had these thoughts, but they would have if they weren't so busy trying to fend off the masses of soldiers.

Shots rang out, loud and striking, and soon there weren't many of the zombie-like fighters left. It was a relief.

But then something happened.

Something that made Alfred let out a shriek or horror.

A girl, a young girl, had ben turned. She was only about eleven, blonde hair adorned with a little purple ribbon, clothed in a pink dress. And she was after the American with a certain peculiar interest.

He shoved her small form away first with the barrel or his gun, fear knotting in his stomach. How was he supposed to kill her? She was so small, so innocent. What had she done to deserve this? Nothing. She wasn't a bad guy, she was just a little girl. Why did this have to happen?

He closed his eyes and pulled the trigger, but realized all too late that he hadn't reloaded. She leaped onto him.

"H-help! IVAN!" He called out, and the tall Russian was there in seconds, grabbing the girl and holding her struggling body to his chest. She grabbed onto one of his arms and bit down, pulling back to reveal bloodied teeth fashioned crudely into somewhat of a grin. Her eyes were empty.

It felt almost as though time had slowed down. Ivan tossed the girl's body to the side, backing away and looking down at his arm in fear. He shook his head a few times, bitting his lip. The girl was still struggling, but another civilian had come and grabbed her, scolding, with tears streaming down his cheeks. He shook her body and then forced something into her mouth- a pill.

The man ran over to Ivan, holding out a similar object, but the Russian refused.

Alfred, the entire time, lay on the ground, eyes glazed over as he looked at the greying sky. Why? WHY? Why had Ivan, whom seemed to want nothing to do with those damn reds, why did he have to die? Why did he have to become one of them again? Dammit, if only he had reloaded, in only he hadn't had a brush of humanity. If only he could protect those around him.

"Alfred!" Toris' meek voice exclaimed as the brunette ran over to his body, checking for wounds. "Get up! Get up now!" He hissed, looking around them for signs of others, bystanders that could possibly overhear.

The blonde complied and stood, eyes tearing up unconsciously. He didn't want to cry, in fact, he didn't care all that much about the stupid commie red. He just was… emotional, caring, humane. At least, that was he had to keep telling himself. Ivan had been saved by HIM, he had saved the Russian soldier. And he had done that, knowing that the other was, WAS, the enemy. After being alone for so long, the mere thought of human interaction was enough to make him become trusting of the other.

Yet he knew so little about Ivan.

Sure, they had their nightly chats by the fire, the many hours of walking filled with -instead of silence- talking. But Ivan could have been a double agent for all he knew. Not like Alfred himself offered any special sort of information, he was so out of the loop. But he didn't know. He knew NOTHING about the traitorous man.

And now their short friendship -acquaintanceship, whatever it was- would be soot even shorter because of that stupid little girl. And the stupid soldiers. God, they were all so stupid! No one deserved this fate! Ivan was a good guy, too! He was against them, he was fighting what he had, at first, supported. He had learnt the errors of his ways and tried to amend that! Yet he still had to die? It wasn't fair- IT WASN'T FAIR!

Alfred shook his head and tried to keep his composure, realizing that he and Toris were nearing Ivan and Feliks, as well as the odd blonde man that held the soldier-girl's limp body.

"What is SHE still doing alive?" The American hissed to Toris, fists clenching at his sides. He wanted to lunge at her and strangle her, rip her apart and desecrate the remains. She was innocent, too, and didn't deserve this, but she had hurt Ivan…

"Well, uh, you see-" The Lithuanian began nervously, searching for words.

"Thank the Gods you are allright, comrade Alfred!" Ivan exclaimed once he saw that the blonde, indeed, was in perfect condition, apart from a few scratches from the ground. The Russian positively beamed. "I was so worried…"

"You. YOU were worried?" Alfred gasped, running up to him against Toris' scoldings. "How do you think I feel? I…" He choked on his words and hid his face in his hands, body shaking with silent sobs.

Ivan bit his lip and grabbed the other in an awkward hug, trying to comfort him or calm him down. "Nyet… You… I am fine, Alfred."

The blonde pushed him away suddenly. "Fine? FINE? You're bit, you're DONE FOR! And it's all my goddamn fault, fuckin' a!" He burned his face in his hands again, still obviously crying.

"Nyet, Alfred, I AM FINE." He bit his lip and nodded once to the other four around him, noting their approving looks. "Alfred, in army, there was thing, and, uh, venom, well…. it does not work, well, on ME, but maybe it would, but I do not think-"

Alfred snapped his head. "What?" He asked in a hoarse whisper. "You mean… You mean, you're not affected by the zombie stuff?"

Ivan could only manage a sheepish nod.

Author's Note:

Ohmigawd. I did not see that coming! Really. I HAD a plan for this, but then Lily and Vash showed up and I needed a little tension and something else and, well, this just came out. But don't worry, I still have a plan! Not much is going to change, but now I have a lot of ideas for times/places that I really needed to have stuff. But I didn't.

Anyways, we see that Alfred maybe cares more that he'd like to admit. But, I'm sorry, there's not going to be any relationship stuff yet. Well, maybe, but I'm not telling!

Also, Ivan's little secret at the end is actually a pretty good hint to what his BIG secret is. Why he has all this money, why he wanted a disguise, why he had to use the fake name in the last chapter… I may have said too much! -laughs-

Anyways, the next chapter will be done soon. :


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